


Past Addictions

by Elillierose



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Addiction, Alcoholism, Dark Thoughts, Dealing With Loss, Depression, Emotional Hurt, End of the World, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, during time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-30 21:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elillierose/pseuds/Elillierose
Summary: It's been five years since Noctis has been absorbed into the Crystal, and now out there in the world alone, Prompto returns to an old habit to deal with the loss. Now, slipping back into that addiction, he thinks back to how it started.





	1. Year:1 Day:1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by: Sinikka_von_Wolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
> 
> So, this is be pretty different from my usual, but I'm pretty excited for it, and really hope everyone enjoys it. ^-^
> 
> There is a song for this one: Leaves that are Green, By: Simon and Garfunkel. Listen to it right at the beginning, and I usually don't push to listen to the recommended music, but this one is kinda what he;s listening to in the story, so his mutterings will make more sense.
> 
> Everyone other than Prompto only appear in flashbacks. And Promptis if you want it to be.
> 
> Italics represent flashbacks

~Leaves that are Green, By: Simon and Garfunkel

Fingers thrummed over the handle bar in time with the melody, the vibration from the engine running euphoria straight through his veins. "Hmm hm hm hm hm hmm hmmm," Prompto hummed along, music blaring in his ears, anything to drown out the lawless chaos around him; "I'm twenty-two now, but I won't be for long," he sang along, his own voice lost in the sounds of the notes and purr of his bike as they sailed down the vacant stretch of asphalt. He barely paid anything else any mind, none of it was worth the attention, none of it important enough to take his focus from his home of momentary peace.

The road ahead of him was straight, clear of daemons and void of obstacles; it was almost normal. A long exhale, and a tilt of his head backwards, and he was staring up; stared directly into that overbearing reminder of what this world was. Hell. That's all there was to it. Pitch blackness of the soul-sucking variety weighing down on them as their permanent warden. It made sure every inmate was kept on their toes, ever aware of their surroundings and without a second of rest.

He felt the earth tremble off to his left, another correction officer to patrol the premises he assumed. "I held her close, but she faded in the night," he picked back up with the tune, blocking out the happenings around him. "Like a poem meant to write," another shudder caused him to veer slightly, but he quickly realigned from years of practice. "And the leaves that are green turn to brown," he sang louder, swerving around a darkened puddle forming on the ground. Prompto bowed his head forward, gazing down at the metal beneath him, "And they wither with the wind," he whispered, ignoring the increase in activity around him and letting his need to accelerate take over.

"And they crumble in your han–" His words were snatched away, replaced with the deafening screech of rubber skidding agonizingly over grit. A startled and pained cry as his back collided with the ground, the air getting plucked from his lungs by a cruel and unforgiving mistress. The calm-inducing sound was ripped from his ears, revealing the ugly reality that was around him: the cries of daemons, the whines of the scarce and fearful wildlife, and that eerie and foreboding silence of being utterly alone.

The world spun and his vision flickered from one image to another, like flipping through channels, never deciding on which to remain on. Only difference being that each change resulting in another punch to the chest or head. Disoriented and lacking motivation, he remained face down where he landed, aches already prickling at his limbs and torso. The faint "He-o, hello, h-llo, he..lo..." still reached his ringing ears, now coming out in butchered and warped stutters. A bitter noise echoed in his chest, slowly making their way out of his throat in a raspy chuckle, "Son of a bitch." Groaning, he turned over to his side just as the last 'G-odbye, g...dbye goooddbyye..e.e' drifted out of existence. 

And that was it, he was forced back into the real merciless world. He coughed as fresh air raked down his throat, burning his insides with the inhale. For a moment, he lied there, staring off into the trees that stood mere feet away, black and purple danced through them, and he couldn't discern if they were truly there, or if it was his still swimming conscious. "This is how it's gonna be, huh?" he muttered under an unsteady breath, slipping his scraped up hands under him with a wince and a hiss. His eyes were pulled over to his phone which had landed a few yards away on the road, and even from this distance, he could see the destructive spits that ran over its surface, "Perfect."

It was a struggle, but he manged to sit up, his whole body screaming at him to lie back down for a while longer, but his mind chastised his instincts for wanting to make such a foolish mistake. There wasn't room for such luxuries out here, there wasn't room for much of anything anymore... He took a quick look around, surveying his immediate surroundings to wager how much time he had to collect himself before he'd be forced to move on. And, if the expending puddles of dismay were anything to go by, that only meant about a minute at the most. Sighing, he staggered to his feet, stumbling a few steps in the process, but he was up, and that's all he could have hoped for.

Prompto bit his cheek as he looked to his phone, rendered useless by its date with the pavement, but he scooped it up regardless and slipped it into his pocket; he wanted to hang onto it more so out of sentiment than actual functionality. He patted his pocket and turned towards his motorcycle, which he just now realized had a steady wisp of steam fluttering from it. "Come oooon," he whined, limping over to the vehicle and immediately checked the engine. No good, completely busted and reduced to scrap without the proper means to repair it. Without a second of reasonable thought, he gave the vehicle a spiteful and frustrated kick, which was tailed directly by a tight swear and a couple hops back.

Once the throbs of stupidity subsided, he took a deep breath to calm himself; alright, so being stuck out here couldn't be that bad, could it? His question was answered by the tremor that nearly knocked him off his unstable feet, and the cry that followed frosted his blood over. He didn't hesitate, he just ran, protesting injuries be damned, no way he was sticking around to deal with one of those behemoths of a daemon, not now. The animalistic gnarls and wails continued their chase, the echo and lack of other sound made it challenging to distinguish how far behind it was. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, that's all he tried to focus on as they carried him farther away from danger.

His body slowed down without his permission, his breaths coming out huffed and hastened as he slowly came to a stop to lean forward; his lungs and chest were on fire, not to mention his legs twinged with the wish for him to take a break. "Not much... farther," he told himself between gulps of tainted air. Hesitation gripped him, this place felt familiar, almost inviting him forward, and lifting his head, actually gauging his surroundings for once, he saw why. "Long time... no see," he breathed out, straightening himself up and brushing off his complaining hands.

Letters, once bright with calling colors, drained of life and left a shell of their former self. He glanced over them, spelling out 'motel' in his head; so many memories of this place, all flooding at once and he felt a hitch in his throat. 'To think I'll be spending another night here after all,' he thought almost bitterly. Or day, it was pretty difficult to tell a difference anymore; everything blended together into a stretched mutation of what it once was. Hobbling, he painstakingly made his way over, the adrenaline withdrawing to leave him sore and exhausted. His mind drifted to the thoughts of beds, and prayed there would at least be one in decent enough condition for him to stay for a few hours if nothing else.

Reaching the front of the building, he paused, eyes instinctively darting to the roof where he knew that spot to be and held his breath for a moment. Swallowing, he shook his head and pushed his way inside, instantly feeling a sting at the devastation that claimed this place. An unanticipated gasp seeped out as his foot crunched down on some glass shards; he lifted his foot to gaze at the ruined picture frame, shattered and crumpled. His heart ached, skipping a quick beat as he made out the face of a child through the layers of dust and debris. Pushing his lingering sympathy aside, he tore his eyes away, off towards the first hallway he saw, the one he had walked down countless times before.

The resounding steps bounced off the closely knit walls, hitting his ears in a rustic and distasteful way. He despised it, loathed every inkling of sound they produced. Reaching the first room on his left, he stopped and tilted his head to peer in; completely empty, nothing but rubbish and dilapidation. It took him a moment to regain enough care to move on, but eventually it flowed back through him, and he moved on, his left leg now heavily complaining about the excessive use.

Luckily, the next stop held promise when he spotted a sad excuse for a bed, but it was sufficient enough, and right now that's all he could hope for. He half dragged himself over to it and dropped himself into it, releasing a stiff sigh of relief with the... slight comfort of it. Now lying down, his mind granted with a gracious intermission, he could feel every throb and unpleasant pulse that poked at him. Another groan left his form as he turned his head to the side, gazing off at the counter a few yards away; his eyes were practically magnetized towards the bottle residing on it. His fingers twitched with the sight of it and his heart clenched. "Nope," he muttered, turning to his side with a gasp of pain, "Don't need it."

Even if he said that, he wasn't sure how much he meant it; everything in him pestered him that it was alright, it's been long enough. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No," he stubbornly denied himself that escape. The persistent jolts of pain told him otherwise though, and against his better judgement, he hauled himself over, right hand wrapping around the glass bottle while the other unscrewed the lid. And, as the mouth of it touched his lips, he hesitated, the scent hitting him with burdened memories. 'Just enough to take the edge off,' he told himself, 'no more than that, it'll be fine.'

He didn't think anymore, considering the options only multiplied his guilt tenfold as he tilted the bottle up. That burn that he hadn't felt in so long hurt in more way than one, and the temptation to just keep going festered his morals. "Alright," he whispered shakily, "that's it." He reluctantly replaced the alcohol back on the counter, his fingers struggling to release their hold on it. Backing up slowly, he dropped himself on the edge of the bed, waiting for that single swig to kick in, impatiently and internally begging it to hurry up. Thumbs fiddled and foot tapped against the sodden floor, "Come on," he dipped his head through another shudder of discomfort.

And, there is was, that nostalgic initial hit that set his mind at relative ease, but it didn't come without consequence. The utter feeling of betrayal and resentment accompanied the sensation. His eyes stared down at his hands. "Fucking pathetic," he mumbled, throwing himself backwards to lie flat on his back. With his mind only subtly tickling with the effects of it, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off for a moment.

* * *

 

_"Noct!" he yelled, fist pounding against the hardened surface again and again. "Noctis, come on man, you're just messing around, right?" he asked, hand tightening into a more condensed ball against the crystal._

_A hand fell on his shoulder, luring him from his futile attempts at tearing through the hardened exterior; his hands trembled with the prolonged effort of breaking through. "Prompto, that's enough already," Gladio spoke softly, his tone patient and understanding. "It's no use, so give it a rest._

_The blond grit his teeth and dropped to his knees before it. "No, there has to be something," he muttered, hands running over the rock, "Something we're missing." Fingers danced over it, feeling every bump and ridge. "Come on, what the hell is this thing made of?" he growled, slamming an open hand against it._

_Ignis stood idly by, never saying a word to either of the others, his own vacant gaze cast down at the metal grating; the sounds of the youngest's fruitless efforts resounding through it and traveling through his feet and up his legs. His brow furrowed and the clanks of his cane tapping the floor removed Prompto from his task. "You know more about this stuff than any of us," the gunner started. "So, you know something, right?" he almost begged the adviser, never looking away from the crystal._

_"We should probably get going soon," he replied, ignoring the question._

_Biting his lip, he punched again, his hand now throbbing painfully. "Noct!" he shouted, hauling himself back to his feet. "I know you're in there, dammit," he choked out, voice breaking, "Answer me..." His hand slid down the side of it to fall at his side. "I'm not leaving," he whispered, directing this to the others. "I'm not leaving here without him, I just got him back, I'm not going now." He kept his tone low, not wanting to risk it wavering, "You guys can go if you want, but you'll have to go without me."_

_The shield took a deep breath, not wanting to lose his cool, "Trust me, none of us want to do this, alright? But, there's nothing we can do, and you know it too. It would be a waste of time to stay he–"_

_"It's not a waste of time!" Prompto snapped back. "You guys haven't even tried to get him out yet! For all we know, he's waiting for us to help. So no, it's not a waste." And, with that being established, he picked up where he left off._

_The other two gave him this time to continue his burst of desperate tries, letting him figure it out for himself that there really was nothing he could do. It was the only way to get it through to him. For nearly two days they had to listen to his constant barrage of pleading and fighting, the sounds growing strained and sluggish as time went on. And, by the end of the second day, they finally ceased altogether. The sudden silence had woken Ignis from his sleep, the echos no longer reaching him where he rested._

_He called out to Gladio, who instantly realized as well, and with concern now replacing their hurt, they headed back to where they left him. Upon finding him leaning helplessly against it, one hand still pressed against its surface, the shield sighed sadly. "I'll go get him," he muttered._

_Prompto's clouded and reddened eyes glanced up to meet amber for a split second before lowering back down. "Come to rub it in?" he asked, voice hoarse from hours of overuse, "Come to say you told me so?"_

_The larger man looked to his hand placed over the rock, blood and bruises decorating it. "No," he sighed, folding his arms and looking down, "But, I did come over to try and convince you to come back with us." He crouched down next to him, gently wrapping his hand around the other's wrist and carefully pulled it away as his other arm twisted around his shoulders. "Let's get going, sticking around here is only going to do more harm than good." It was slow and tedious, but he got Prompto back to his feet._

_"So, this is it, huh?" he laughed sourly. "We're just gonna leave him here." He sighed, stumbling slightly as he was caught before he could go down._

_"You know that's not how this is," Gladio replied, taking most of the blond's weight. After all that time of wallowing on the floor, and after days of Gods know what, his body wasn't too appreciative of moving around right now. "You know as well as we do that he wouldn't want us waiting for days on end in this godforsaken place."_

_"And I also know that if it were any of us, he wouldn't ditch," Prompto quickly countered. "He'd stay and get us out of that thing."_

_Gladio had to practically pull him along to get him to move, "Noctis is also reckless," he gave another tug to force another step, "He'd probably stay here until he died. That's not exactly the example we should be following."_

_Prompto didn't reply to that; it was true, but that didn't mean he was willing to give up as easily as they seemed to be. "We could at least give him a week," he mumbled. "Just one week, and if he's not out, then I'll go willingly," he agreed. "Please, we just need to give him time, and I'm sure he'll get out." He planted his feet, refusing to budge until he got an answer, "It's just seven days, it's not that lon–"_

_"No." It was Ignis who stepped in this time. "The answer is no," he sighed. "Things are bound to go south from here on out, and there are places where our energy can be better spent." The only time he was thankful he couldn't see, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal or hate, or whatever emotion it was this time that flashed across the blond's face._

_"Ignis, you should understand as much as anyone tha–"_

_"I said no, Prompto," he interrupted, "And that's my final decision. I'm not allowing anyone to remain here and be counterproductive for any longer. We've already spared more time than we should have, and I won't have any more of it." Prompto flinched at that unseeing glare that bore down on him, "We will be leaving now... all of us."_

_He could have sworn he felt his heart stop, everything ran cold, "Ignis, no, you can't be serious. W-we can't leave without him; I know there has to be a way for all four of us to go back," he pulled against Gladio's hold, "He only needs a little more time, this is Noctis we're talking about. I just got back to him, I can't do this again, I... I," his vision fluctuated momentarily, "I can't..." The shield glanced down as those struggles became weaker and far between until there was a light slump against him._

_"Guess he finally wore himself out," he muttered, void of humor. "Probably for the best." Lifting him in his arms, he nodded to Ignis, quickly kicking himself for that, "We should be able to go without an issue now."_

_Everything sounded fuzzy and warped, but he could subtly make out what the others were saying; but, his body was too tired for him to reply or even fight against it anymore. He guessed this is how it had to be then. He may not have agreed with it, but what choice did he honestly have? Blinking a few times, he looked past Gladio's arm, watching as the crystal went in and out of focus until it ultimately dimmed altogether. 'I'm not leaving you,' he tried to mumble out, but he was sure the thought never made it past his head._

* * *

 

His eyes pricked ever so slightly, "Hm, so much for not leaving you, huh?" He lifted his hand above his face to stare at it and trace over the cuts and bruises that marred it, much like then. "Can't even keep a promise as simple as that," he lowered his hand to cover his face, slowly sliding it until his arm shielded his vision. His limb was moved enough for him to peer from underneath it, glaring back at that temporary solution to his current doubts, and he scoffed at it, "Yeah right." Not that it would do any good, the moment it wore off, he'd just be right back where he was now, only in worse shape.

But, what was the point? His eyes shifted to the window, seeing nothing beyond it. Oh right, there wasn't one, any reason for giving a shit was gone with the light. A shiver ran through him, and even he didn't know if it were a sob or a chuckle, maybe both. "Why bother?" he asked himself, flinging his arm off his face to flop next to him. He agonizingly pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair, ignoring the slickness he felt at his hairline and sniffed against his running nose. On stiff feet, he returned to the counter, one hand supporting his weight against it and the other nearly snatching the bottle of vodka up. But, he only held it, gripping it tightly and strolled over to gaze out the window.

"Well, can't say I didn't try," he whispered, scanning the outside, watching as more daemons sprouted from the ground, joining the ones that already plagued the area. He lifted the rim of the bottle to linger under his nose and took a quick smell, lecturing words of Ignis swirling with the aroma. It would be so simple to just down the whole thing right now, just allow it to take over for him and carry him off into the dimension of kindled numbness; it's better than this hell. "Sorry, but I gave it a shot," he replied to the adviser's unspoken words placed it against his mouth and took a couple generous drinks before lowering it and staring back outside, his eyes burning with his instant and screaming guilt. The fire that filled him though, helped to incinerate that sense of disappointment, and left him craving more of that freedom he knew to be approaching soon.


	2. Year:2 Day:56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
> 
> And finally getting this up, I was at a con the whole weekend, so I wasn't able to relly get to anything for the last three days.
> 
> Song for this one is "The Funeral" By: Band of Horses. I have marked where to listen.

The amount of time spent in that position, staring and mulling things over was lost to him; but, it had been long enough for his mind to be smothered in bitter smog and his senses to be obscured. Long enough to be flooded with shameful bliss. Taking a deep and stiff breath, Prompto turned his back to the window and leaned back against it, his head falling to rest against it as well. Slowly, with a small sound of squeaking as the leather patches rubbed against the surface, he slid down to the floor; the room fluctuated subtly with the action of it. "At least you aren't here to tell me what an idiot I am," he whispered, raising the bottle to toast to a friend that was all but present before taking another small sip. His left fingers drummed over the glass nervously, his gaze dropped to settle on the floor beneath his feet.

He closed his eyes, drawing his legs up to wrap his arms around them, seeking some comfort in the confines of this godforsaken place. His hand abandoned its habitual tapping to ball into a fist, and without thought, it was brought back full force into the wall behind him; the bang it produced rattled through the tattered walls and bounced around eerily. And, by the time silence rolled back in he could hear his own labored breaths, his teeth doing what they could to keep it under control. His sudden outburst did nothing but remind him of his own solitary confinement. He was alone here, and that was it, there was nothing more to it.

"All because I was too weak to do anything," he grit out, his fist slamming against the wall again, and then a third time, vibrations ran through his arm with each hit. "I was," 'bang', "supposed to," 'bang', "be there," he bit down, ceasing his shuddering breaths on the verge of breaking down.

His eyebrows knit together; he didn't have that much, and to verify, he raised the vodka to eye level, and his heart dropped. "Dammit," he sighed, lowering it back down, but keeping it in his grip. At least a fourth was gone already, but, he was sure it was only a few sips. Was it really that much? A berating pang pierced through the haze and struck right where it hurt the most. "What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself, glaring down as the contents sloshed with the tremor of his tightening grasp.

But, he never released his hold, instead he uncertainly got to his feet, having to use the wall to keep him from falling back against it and to the floor. He then stumbled and limped his way forward, pressing on until the materiel beneath his feet shifted from crumpling carpet to crumbling tile. And, he stopped, glancing off to his left where he found his warped reflection staring back. All he could see was a pathetic man, drinking his sorrows away like a fucking weakling; just the sight of it disgusted him. One foot in front of the other, he leaned forward, placing his drink on the counter for the time being. The palms of his hands framed either side of the mirror as he traced over particularly long crack that disfigured his face, splitting it over the bridge of his nose.

His perfectly imitated gaze pried into his own real one, searching and seeking for he didn't know what. But, whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be found. Almost on autopilot, he snatched his only liberation back up and took another drink before slamming it back down with a pitiful and hateful whimper, and glared back at those disgraceful blue orbs.

* * *

_He stared down at his hands, still shaking slightly from the lack of use over Gods know how long. How long had it been since he had been dragged here? A day? A week? Either of those sounded plausible. The blond couldn't shake the lingering dread from his mind, couldn't fathom how he was going to tell the others about what he had found out about himself. After that short talk with Aranea, he thought for sure he was ready to face anything, but now that he was face to face with them again, he wasn't so sure._

_He bit his lip out of prolonged anticipation, a presence behind him tore him from his internal reverie before the steps queued him to the prince taking a seat on the other side of the bed. A few seconds of tense and awkward silence ensure, tearing the blond up from the inside. "Hey," Noctis started, voice subtly weighted with uncertainty, "I'm sorry."_

_"For what," he replied immediately, almost out of a reflex as he peered over his shoulder, waiting for a response._

_"For falling right into his trap," guilt tangled with his words, his head hung down as if looking in Prompto's direction was too painful, "And for hurting you like that."_

_Prompto looked back down to his lap, balancing those words in his head as he pondered over them. "I know, right?" he lightly chuckled out of no better way to deal with his emotions, "How could you possibly do such a horrible thing-" he mocked upset, his sentence sounding like that of a bad actor as his head lifted, "-after everything we've been through." More awkward silence, he had hoped that his forced cheerfulness would have at least lightened the mood, but of course not. "Nah, it's ok. You're not the only one who fell for it." His gaze dropped back down, assuming it's previous stare at the floor._

_"Once this is all over, I say we break down the borders, come together as one nation." The blond's 'huh' followed like an echo to that declaration. He stared at Noctis for a solid few seconds before his eyes were met. "I mean," the raven sat up straighter and leaned against the frame of the bed, trying to look casual, "What does it matter where you're from anyway?"_

_"Ya'know," Prompto pushed himself up despite how much his body preferred staying where it was, "I never thought I'd say this, but you sounded like a real king for a second." He leaned forward with his hands supporting him against the top bunk. He stayed there and looked to Noctis._

_Unfolding his arms and looking away, he replied, "Better late than never." The sounds of Prompto's light shuffling filled the momentary quiet. "I'm gonna make this world a better place," he promised. Looking back with a light smile, he added, "You with me?"_

_The questioned shocked him for a second, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but there was a swell of pride with that. "Uh-huh," he finally found his voice, "Ever at your side." He smiled back, the sense of relief flooding back through him at last. Everything would be alright._

* * *

His hands were almost digging into the decaying surface as that cursed pledge reared its ugly head. "You're a liar," he told himself, dropping his attention downward, landing directly on a discarded piece of wood; he assumed it to have come from the door frame. Gritting his teeth harshly, he crouched with a groan and clutched the object. And, taking a step back, he glanced from that to his reflection. "A foolish naive liar!" he swung forward with it, putting every inkling of his strength into it and not so much as flinching as shattering deafened him and expelled those thoughts for a brief period of time. Glass rained down, only a few clung to their home, refusing to falter.

"Nothing..." he breathed out, "...but a traitor." The plank slipped from his palm, upsetting the shards in its wake and he took a crunching step away, unconsciously snagging the alcohol as he departed. He stumbled through the doorway, catching himself on the frame of it before he could topple over. There, he stayed for a few moments to collect himself so he could continue on without incident.

Back to the bed he headed, he needed to lie back down; the most obnoxious bits of the pain may have been subdued, but even then he knew he shouldn't be wandering around so much. His body needed a break, whether he could feel it or not. He was so close, only a few feet away, only to have it yanked away as his foot on his bad side caught, pulling him down to the floor with a less than comfortable 'thud'. A tense gasp sounded out as his dulled senses couldn't catch up in time for him to catch himself this time.

And, to his disgusted realization, he worried more about spilling his vodka than making sure he didn't hurt himself in that fall. Glancing up, despite him landing in a near heap, his drink was still upright. He sighed as he worked his way back up, not bothering to get back to his feet and instead leaned against the foot of the bed. "That bad, huh?" he asked himself sourly, closing his eyes and allowing his head to fall back.

* * *

_"Don't you think you've had quite enough?" Ignis questioned, with criticism in his tone. He may not have been able to see, but the deteriorating state of the blond's behavior was a clear sign._

_He heard the sound of a liquid smacking the sides of glass followed by a stubborn, "Don't you think it's none of your business?" There was a 'clank' as a now empty bottle was harshly placed on the counter. "I'm not hurting anyone, am I? So why's it matter?" He cut his eyes over to the shot glass, then to the other side of it where Gladio sat, looking back to him as he shook his head._

_"I think Iggy's right, maybe we should call it a night."_

_Prompto scoffed. "Guess things don't change, huh?" he asked, going to stand, but quickly discarding that idea as his legs refused to hold his weight at the moment._

_The shield raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?" he folded his arms as the other swiftly seated himself back on the stool._

_"Both of you, always so quick to give up on something. 'Oh, let's just go to bed so we don't have to deal with this,'" he mocked incredulously. "'Maybe we should just leave instead of trying to save someone we've known for years!'" he slammed a fist down on the counter, disrupting the other customers, drawing the attention of a few of them. "You two were supposed to be there for hi–"_

_"Excuse me," the bartender interrupted, leaning intimidatingly against the bar, "I'm going to have to ask you to either keep it down, or make your leave." He set the young man with a glare, telling him that he simply wasn't going to have any of it._

_He took a few heated breaths, temptation to argue with him on the tip of his tongue, but the heavy hand pulling on his shoulder tugged his attention away. "Come on, Prompto, we don't want to cause a scene," Gladio said lowly, only so the three of them could hear it._

_"Fine," he fumed, stumbling off his seat and only staying upright thanks to the other's support. Once they were outdoors, Prompto wasted no time in pulling away to stagger a few feet before turning back on him. "I don't need your help," he tried to say bitterly, but only sounded slightly pitiful. "I'm going back," he mumbled, turning on the spot and getting a few steps before he had to stop and place his hand against the side of the building._

_The brute sighed heavily. "Our room is this way," he reminded._

_"You think I don't know that?" the blond straightened up. "I'm going back for Noct; it's been long enough, dammit."_

_It was Ignis' turn to let out a sorrowful sigh, "Prom, that's probably not a wise idea. I know it's been over a year now, and I know you're still not over it, none of us are. But, you can't go back there."_

_"Watch me," he muttered, taking one step and immediately fumbled down to his knees. He fell forward to his hands as he took a few deep breaths, "Someone has to, because it sure as hell isn't gonna be you two." It sounded as though he were more or less speaking to himself at this point._

_"Trust me, we wish we could," Gladio replied anyway and made his way over to help the kid back up. "But it's as Iggy said, it ain't happenin'!"_

_"Why?" Prompto asked, accepting the help despite his hateful words towards them._

_The other was confused by the question, "Because going back isn't going to do any goo–"_

_"No," Prompto interrupted. "I mean, why did you guys go there in the first place? It was an obvious trap, so why did you let him go there? You're his shield, you're supposed to protect him!" he snapped, slamming a weak and flailing fist against the man's chest. "And you," he looked over to the brunet, "Aren't you supposed to see these things from a mile away, shouldn't you have at least been able to see through it?!" He bit his lip to keep his sob under control, "So why?"_

_Neither knew how to answer that right away, but Gladio at least gave it a shot. "Well, we couldn't very well leave ya there," he shrugged with a humorless chuckle. "Not like that was an option."_

_"It was and you both know it, but you still let him go. Even after all of Ardyn's gloating and tempting, you still let it happen," his fist was now clinging to Gladio's jacket as he hid his face in his shoulder, he was the only reason he wasn't curled up on the ground right now. "Because you two couldn't do your job, he's gone!"_

_"Prompto, I've been patient up until now," Ignis spoke unnaturally calmly and precisely. "But if you are honestly suggesting that what happened is a fault of ours, or that by some miracle there is something we could have done to prevent it, then I can't stay silent about it anymore." The adviser slowly made his way over, still getting used to this whole blind thing, "You need to understand that this would have happened regardless of what we wanted, and our feelings on the matter mean absolutely nothing. This was going to happen, and there's nothing that will change that."_

_He said nothing, but the fire that ran through him didn't cool any with that revelation. His pulse continued to thrum in his veins and his heat kept beating roughly against his ribs. And, at this point it was hard to tell if it was from his animosity or his intoxication, but it didn't feel agreeable in the slightest._

* * *

~SONG HERE~

His eyes snapped open to stare up at the patchy ceiling above, dizziness fogged his senses subtly. "I was sure someone could have done something," he whispered, blinking slowly and swiping a hand down his face, the feeling lost to him, "Anything." He could still feel the stab of regret from throwing the blame onto them like that; they hadn't deserved it, and he very well knew it. They didn't deserve any of that, and he never even apologized for it, merely let his own despair ferment and dig down deeper instead of trying to fix the problem.

He wondered how they felt about him now though, after all that. Maybe they held a grudge against him for all the shit he put them through. He cut his eyes down to the bottle. Well, if they saw him now, he was positive they'd have something to say, none of it pleasant either. "Good thing they can't," he rolled his head to the side to look back out the window across the room; fire flared outside, spreading across and consuming what little foliage it was able to bite onto. "Don't even know where you guys are right now. Hopefully doing better than this."

The sinking sense of isolation began to finally settle within him, and his left hand instinctively reached into his vest, the familiar edges of polaroids flitted under his fingertips. But, he couldn't bring himself to pull them out, couldn't stomach the thought of facing the others, even if they were just pictures; to him, it was the same as seeing them in person right now. He traced over the borders of them, trying to remember which ones they even were, and he tried to remember how many of them showed how much he changed since then. He didn't want to see that. He was naive, and he was oblivious, and he hated every ounce of it.

His old self would have never been seen in a situation such as this... and he despised him so much. Wetness obscured his vision and ringing tickled his ears, "What the hell was wrong with me?" So many stupid jokes and countless light-hearted mood-breakers in serious situations, and all of it meaningless now, all humor had been abandoned long ago, "A little too late."

Prompto pulled the bottle into his lap, drawing his knees up to allow it to lean against his legs. "'This was going to happen, and there's nothing that will change that,'" he repeated to himself. "'This was going to happen,'" he grit his teeth and ran both hands through his hair to cup the back of his neck as he curved forward, "'And there's nothing that will change that.'" He threw his hands to his sides and tossed his head back, "What a load of horse shit!" Grabbing the closest chunk of debris to his right hand, he grabbed it up and thrust it across the room, a resounding 'thunk' followed when it struck the window.

He held his breath, swallowing down the sob that begged to be freed. "All of it... a bunch of..." he breathed out slowly, "A bunch of excuses." He gazed emptily at the drink in his lap, stained fingerprints covering it, "And, I guess that makes me the worst of 'em. Constantly trying to think of why it could have been anyone else's fault."


	3. Year:3 Day:148

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
> 
> Only two more chapters after this one. ;w;

"It's no-one else's fault more than it is my own," he whispered to himself, taking the vodka out of his lap so he could stretch his aching legs out once again. Prompto knew there were things he could have done, measures he could have taken to prevent things from going the way they did. Or at least have delayed it if nothing else. Deep down, he knew it was going to happen one way or another, but it didn't need to occur when and how it did. On that day, the day he was shoved off that train, he should have tried harder to convince Noctis it was really him; if he had known what he had seen, he would have... but, that didn't matter anymore. It was over with, not like he could redo it now.

He swiped a hand over his face, the sensation lost and tingly, deluded by his dissolving feelings. "If only," he sighed, taking a small sip, "If only I figured out what the hell was going on... then maybe." A cough tore out of his throat as the liquid tried to go down the wrong way, causing it to splutter out and run down the side of his mouth. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he placed the bottle to his side, hoping that putting it out of sight would help in some way. Though, he knew that wouldn't be the case, it was almost a second nature by now.

"Just keep hoping," he told himself, again trying to get to his feet, his mind telling him to put some distance between himself and the alcohol; hopefully he'd just forget it was there. Using the foot of the bed, he pulled himself up with a light groan of discomfort and disorientation, the sudden movement not helping with his already swirling vision. He just had to make it out of the door, that wasn't asking for too much.

Finally there, he gripped either side of the door frame, and he was sure it was the only thing keeping him upright at that moment, otherwise he'd have quite the unplanned date with the floor. He leaned to his right, propping his body up against his wooden support and used his now free hand to run through his hair repeatedly. "I should have known," he mumbled, sagging even further against it, "It was so obvious."

* * *

 

_"I should have done more," Prompto drawled on, shifting miserably under his mountain of covers. "I should have known, what kind of a friend doesn't notice something like that?" He bit his lip and thrust over to his other side and pushed a good majority of the blanket from his head so he could gaze over at Gladio sitting opposite him. "I was too stupid and believed he was really attacking me, and I should have known."_

_The brute sighed heavily, clearly growing tired of hearing the blond's ramblings. But, it was a nice change from he and Ignis being blamed, but still. "Prom, just give it a rest already, will you? We've been through this, haven't we? It's no one's fault but Ardyn's."_

_Prompto shook his head slowly, a small cough as he cleared his throat bringing back that bitter and foul taste. "I don't care," he slurred, reaching a hand out from under his sanctuary to grab for the can on the bedside table. One lift told him it was empty, and out of frustration, he tossed it to the floor. "I should have been able to tell he wasn't himself."_

_"I'll be back, I'm going to pick up a few things," the larger man stood with a more than sympathetic glance in the younger's direction. "Need anything while I'm out?" He wasn't sure why he asked, he knew what the answer would be._

_And, like he expected, a single finger pointed where the can had landed, and that was his reply. "The answer is no, I'm not feeding your problem any. You want it, you can get it yourself," he narrowed his eyes and turned his back on him before he said something he'd regret. "Iggy, what about you?"_

_"I'm quite alright," the adviser breathed out, his head tilted in a way so his ear was facing more towards their direction. "And Gladio," he spoke lower and waited until he could detect the subtle movement indicating that he now faced him, "Do be careful out there," he lowered his head, his face looking uselessly at the floor._

_"Yeah, I will."_

_Ignis kept his attention cast downward until the 'click' sounded out, and then he decided to look towards the blond as he continued to twist from side to side, quickly growing restless. "Prompto, I think we need to talk about this," he wasted no time and skipped the pleasantries, getting right to the point. "This has to stop, it's been quite long enough."_

_"We don't need to talk about anything," he huffed, turning to his back to gaze up at the ceiling, still after all this time, having a hard time looking the other in the face without feeling some sort of pity for him._

_Ignis breathed out in exasperation, "Prompto, you have a problem, and it can't carry on like this. You know it, and I know it; you need help, and there's no shame in admitting it. But, if you keep denying that fact that you have an addiction, it will get worse, and there will be no helping you at that point."_

_"I don't have a 'problem', my only 'problem' is you two breathing down my neck about nothing," he huffed in irritation. "So, I like to have a drink once in a while, it's no big deal," his voice grew quieter as his short rant went on, and he knew he was lying to himself. "Alright? I assure you, it's no-nothing." He pulled the covers the rest of the way off so he could sit up, and the switch in position made his world spin, unbearably so._

_A hand now clasped over his mouth, his legs unsteadily taking him towards the bathroom as he prayed he'd make it this time. Ignis again lowered his attention, inwardly cringing at the gagging that stumbled by him and the retching that followed soon after. "Sure sounds like nothing to me," he said loud enough to be heard. He began tapping his foot as the sounds of sickness reached him a couple more times, and when it ended, there were no returning steps._

_"Prompto?" he asked after a minute, starting to grow concerned. "Are you alright in there?" He was slightly relieved when he got a small moan in response, but that wasn't quite what he wanted to hear, and using his cane, he pushed himself up and tapped his way around the corner. A dark life was still something he was growing accustomed to, so the going was slow and tedious, but the sound of his guide clacking against tile told him he made it without incident._

_"Iggy?" he whined out, sounding absolutely dejected and weak, "I... I don't know what to do," his tone strained and tense, he swallowed against the upcoming sob. "I don't know," he repeated, his head falling back to rest on the edge of the tub. "What am I supposed to do?"_

_Ignis crouched down where he assumed to be in front of the other, "You know you need only to ask for help." He breathed out through his nose and held a hand out, "Come on, if you're done in here, it's probably best if you go lie down for a while. Eating something will help you feel better as well."_

_"Yeah," he agreed, taking the offered hand, the idea of a blind man supporting him not sitting well at all with him and only serving to make him feel even worse about this situation. He tripped over his own feet on the way back, almost taking them both down, but luckily Ignis was a bit more coordinated than him and was able to save the both of them from an unwanted tumble._

_"Thanks," he mumbled as he dropped himself on the edge of the bed, leaning forward when the nausea never quite went away. He cut his eyes over to the table, which was littered with empty cans and bottles, and the sight made him feel sick, but in a different way than he already was plagued with. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?" he asked rhetorically under his breath._

_"That, you are," Ignis answered, knowing full well one wasn't needed. "But, realizing it is the first step, so that's alright." Ignis sat next to him and didn't complain when he leaned over against him, obviously needing the closeness in his intoxicated and debilitated state._

_"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his hand gripping the man's pant's leg, "I should have listened to you guys before, but I," he took a shuddering breath, "I didn't want to hear it, I guess. I should have known you guys only meant w-ell," his voice hitched, moisture stinging his eyes. "I'd give anything if I would have just listened." The other never said a word as his eyelids began to feel heavy and his sight started warping, "Just like back then, I should have fucking listened, maybe then..." he sighed out and relaxed completely against the brunet, barely aware of the sound of the door opening as Gladio returned._

* * *

 

**~SONG HERE~**

"Two years later, and wouldn't ya know it," he laughed bitterly to himself. "Still don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do." He ripped his hand away from his hair so he could get some leverage to get off the frame, his feet catching in the process; it seemed like nothing wanted to cooperate anymore, and the only thing still working was the one thing he didn't want to work. Prompto hummed to himself, trying to bite down the nausea that came in a pair with the discoordination.

He knew he didn't have much chance at making it far, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try; he needed a distraction, anything to get his mind on anything other than his own self-pity. "Nothing I can do," he repeated, "Nope, not a thing." He figured if he kept telling himself, he'd believe it sooner or later. "Just going to have to... deal with it," he finally built up the motivation it took to step completely out of the doorway. Again, he looked up and down the hallway, choosing to go farther down to take a look in the other rooms.

Prompto got a few feet and stopped to lean against the wall again to get his bearings, his head swimming with colors and shapes, causing him to have to close his eyes to prevent himself from getting too dizzy from the sight of it all. But, somehow, he still craved the release that would come if he would only allow himself to indulge in it more. He wasn't sure what was stopping him, there was no-one to stop him, no-one to tell him how stupid he was for it, and no-one to prevent him from taking that huge step back.

"I don't think realizing the issue will really help me out here now," he pushed himself to walk a few more steps, his eyes only cracking open enough to vaguely see where he was going. And, to his left was the next room over, looking to be in no better shape than the others, and he wasn't sure what he was expecting; definitely didn't think it would exactly be in mint condition. He had only made it a few yards, and already he was winded from the small trip. Not even bothering, he just plopped down where he was to stare through the room and out the window.

Out of habit, he grabbed to his right, his hand gripping empty air, his chest clenched at the mere instinct of that action. The blond tossed his head back with a resounding 'thud' and fiddled with his thumbs to keep them busy; the idea of heading back to the other room crossed his mind more than once, but he forced himself to stay put. "You're better than this," he mouthed, lightly banging the back of his head against the wall repeatedly. "You were over this, so don't be an idiot."

But, his old ways won over, and it seemed it was no longer a battle with his mind, but more so a war with his body, and it wanted what was familiar and what would help it all recess back into the shadows of his memory... even if just for a little while. Though, he despised every craving second that went by in the process of returning to his worst enemy, or his savior, he didn't know what it was anymore. He didn't care. "Screw it," he muttered, tripping back in to fall to his hands and knees, pain shooting numbingly through his limbs, and he was actually thankful for the effects of the alcohol at this point, making this much less hurtful than it would have been otherwise.

Figuring this was far enough, he rolled over to his back, his left hand wrapping naturally around the glass container, though he never took a drink this time; just having it in his possession was enough of a comfort for the time being. His fingers stroked over the smooth surface, his body finally losing what little energy was left in it, begging him to finally take the break it needed. Prompto decided he could at least give it that, at least for a bit; not like he could exactly go anywhere and he was only wasting time and strength with his needless roaming around. He closed his eyes, the sensation of the world dancing around him continued to tease him, and he let out a miserable groan as his free arm flung over his shut eyes.

* * *

 

_His head pounded and his body was killing him, not to mention that feeling of sickness that had almost become a daily routine by now. There was a weight on him and it didn't take long for him to realize it was blankets, draped over him in a caring fashion and not a heap that he was so used to. As comfortable as it was, it didn't quite make up for the price he was paying for the previous night's binging. The worst part, it didn't deter him from planning on doing the same this night as well._

_Prompto tried opening his eyes, but the light rays that shined through prevented him from accomplishing much with that task and an unintentional gasp came out and he pulled the blanket up to cover his face._

_"Feeling terrible, are we?" he recognized the voice as Gladio, a bit of sarcasm sprinkled his words. "That's what happens." Not that he had to be told that, he knew what to expect now. "So," he went on, changing the subject, "Ignis told me that you finally came to your senses." He heard a creak, supposedly from the man leaning back in his chair. "You finally ready to grow up and change your ways? Or was that just your drunk ass rambling nonsense again?"_

_The blond didn't answer, in fact, he barely remembered what even happened then, his memories of it only popping up in dismembered fractions. "I dunno," he slurred, swallowing thickly._

_"You don't know?" Gladio questioned incredulously. "You either want to quit or you don't, there is no in-between." He folded his arms and set the shuffling covers with a watchful and narrowed gaze, "So, which is it?"_

_The younger held his breath, he could feel the weight pressing down on his shoulders, and he wished he could just be left alone for a few hours, at least until he had time to recover a bit before answering stuff like this. Then again, there was hardly a completely lucid moment for him these days. "Jus' gimme a second," he turned until he was facing away from the other, the irked sigh followed after him. "I just need to wake up."_

_"No, you need to decide," Gladio raised his voice, not caring that it sent a jolt through Prompto's head. "We can't keep doing this every other day, dammit!" he stood abruptly. "Make your choice now, you either want to kick it, or you don't, it's not something you need to think about."_

_"Yes!" he shouted back, thrusting the blanket off him and to the side, "Alright, I do," he was panting from the blood that ran roughly through his veins, his heart on overdrive, "Happy?" He looked right into amber eyes, his expression the never changing and unphased from his outburst. "You think I don't hate this, hate every moment of it?" his adrenaline was quickly running out and the aftermath of last night were starting to creep back up._

_"Was that so hard?" Gladio nodded his approval, his face softening the slightest amount. "That's all I wanted to hear." He slowly sat back down and crossed his arms once more, "Now, if you can only manage to hold onto that decision from here on out, then we'll be good to go."_

_The blond raised a hand to massage his temple, pain hitting it in waves now that he was calming down again._

_"I'll make some coffee, that normally helps with hangovers," the brute offered, his tone much more compassionate than it had been, "But, I'm sure you already know that." That part wasn't quite as kind though. Prompto gave him a fleeting wave in thanks and slowly lowered himself back down, even the gradual descent was throwing his senses through the loop. He felt godawful, there was no other way to put it. If it weren't for him and Ignis, he had no idea how he'd be fairing right now. Hell, he'd probably be dead in that facility if it weren't for them, and if that didn't do it, then he would have drunk himself to death long ago without them there to stop him._

_"Gladio," he whispered, burying his face in his pillow, "Thanks."_

* * *

 

"Gladdy," he whimpered, turning to his left side, over to face the vodka, and his eyes still shut tightly and his head objected to the change in angle. "Wonder what you'd have to say about this decision." He cleared his throat and worked ungracefully to sit up. Gazing around, he tried to gauge how long he was out, but the darkness swiftly reminded him that without some sort of technology, it was impossible to tell. How long had he even been here? If his slowly stabilizing vision was anything to go off on, it had been at least a few hours.

And just like that, he was back where he started, leaning against the foot of the bed; all that wandering around just to get back to square one. Funny how that works out. With the effects gradually fleeing his senses, he glanced back at the bottle, the fix to that problem right there. Hell, he already messed up, didn't matter what he did anymore, it wouldn't change the fact that he fucked up. Taking a generous drink, he slammed the now half-empty bottle back down, the taste and burn of such a large amount making him cringe with a shudder. No matter how often you consumed that stuff, that was one thing you never got used to.

Maybe he should just down the whole thing right here, he didn't see any reason not to, no reason to give a damn about anything. His fingers glanced over the glass as the place shook slightly from the roaming giants that were a bit too close for comfort. "It would be easy enough," he whispered, genuinely thinking about it, "It wouldn't take much effort."


	4. Year:3 Day:155

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
> 
> And only one chapter left. Sorry this one is so short, but I'm hoping it hits hard enough to make up for that.
> 
> Song is: Suicide is Painless, and it should be the first one that pops up on youtube. And, as always, I marked where to start listening at.

_He lied there, not caring that he was in a not so comfortable looking position, he couldn't be bothered to move, knowing that it would bring nothing but another overwhelming surge of pain and nausea. He could feel every bead of sweat that surfaced on his face moments before it trailed down his face only to join the other drops in soaking the sheets beneath him. Clearing his throat, Prompto cracked open an eye to peer at the brunet sitting across from him, and he was so thankful he couldn't see what he looked like right now. He was certain it couldn't have been pleasant._

_The blond couldn't stifle the pained groan as cramps again gripped at his abdomen, forcing him to curl up a little more on himself, his breath coming out in shudders until it faded into something more tolerable. And, he was almost positive death would have been preferred at this point. Everything burned. "D-dammit," he muttered, tightly closing his eyes against another rush of sickness threatening to assault him._

_"I told you," Gladio breathed out, but not bitterly. "This wasn't the way you wanted to do things."_

_"Shuddup," the younger bit back, not caring how harsh it came out. "Does i-it mat-ter?" he whimpered again, tossing to his other side in a fruitless attempt at an escape. He wanted nothing more than to rip everything out, just tear everything from his body to make it all stop._

_The shield shook his head slowly, he had to give the kid credit for determination, but this definitely wasn't healthy. "Just sayin'," he huffed, "There are better ways."_

_"I d-don't care," he sighed, turning his head to bury it in the pillow, fighting the nagging need to throw up right there where he was. "I-I wanna do it this way," he spit it out fast, already clambering and stumbling to his feet to head to the bathroom. Without a word, Gladio was at his side, making sure he made it in time this round, not wanting to clean up another mess._

_As soon as they were over the threshold, the gunner dropped to his knees at the toilet, hands clutching the sides of it. "At least this is the worst of it," he tried to assure, one hand holding his hair back and keeping it from falling in his face. "Get it all out."_

_"Do I r-really have a cho-" he was abruptly cut off by another gag, followed mostly be strained and painful dry heaves. It took a bit longer than last time, but eventually it had passed, and he was left panting and leaning heavily against the brute. Hot tears that he no longer had the strength to hold back flowed freely down his cheeks, tickling them slightly as they flowed. "I hate this," he whispered, his eyes once again closed._

_Gladio took a deep breath and slowly lowered himself, seeing that moving any time soon was unlikely. "I guess you don't," he replied, grabbing a small towel from the rack and handing it around for him to take._

_Prompto gladly accepted the offer and swiftly began wiping his face off with it. "I really am an idiot, huh?" he flatly asked, dropping the fabric to the floor._

_"Yeah, but we already knew that," he lightly chuckled. "Here, lean against the tub for a moment," he didn't wait for a reply as he manually moved him over and scooped the towel off the floor. Getting to his feet, he stepped a couple feet away and turned the sink on to run a bit of cool water over it. "This should be better," he nodded to the object in his hand as he handed it over._

_A trembling and pallid hand carefully took the towel back, the other hand wrapped securely around his middle as the aches started up again. "I'm dying," he muttered, pressing the cool rag over the entirety of his face, "I am, aren't I?" The other would have laughed if it weren't for the seriousness in his tone, and it sounded as though he genuinely thought he was._

_"No, Prompto, you aren't dying, it just feels like it," he gave the simple answer, the one that was better for both of them to hear at the moment. "But, like I said, it shouldn't get much worse than it is right now." He knelt back in front of the other and carefully took the cloth from his hand to take over wiping the sweat from his features, "As long as you hang in there and fight through it, then it'll work out in the end."_

* * *

 

Prompto took his eyes away from the bottle to stare at the far wall instead. "Probably not a good idea," he whispered to himself, recalling those horrid days with a shiver. Despite his cravings, that was one thing he never wanted to risk going through again; he could still vaguely remember the sensation of his body punishing him for his weak will. But, against it all, he still took another hefty swallow of the stuff, now going through it quite a bit faster than he had initially.

As the flames slowly extinguished themselves, he was left with an emptiness that he knew full well couldn't be filled in the way he was trying to, it would only make it worse, but he still didn't care. He sat there in agonized silence for a few moments more, running his tongue around the interior of his mouth, still tasting the foul and offending taste and his left hand tightened with each resurgence of the flavor. Prompto blinked rapidly, his eyes stinging with fresh and unshed tears until his hand reached up to cover them.

He sniffed against it, but they spilled over nonetheless, "Son of a bitch," he whimpered, fingers rubbing against his lids in an attempt to stunt the flow. It was hopeless; he was hopeless, and no amount of drowning himself was going to wash that away. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he ducked his head down, the tears now streaming steadily as he took in shuddering breaths.

* * *

 

_He didn't want to move, everything hurt too much and it took too much effort to do so. His eyes flicked over to Ignis, who had long since fallen asleep in the chair closest to the window; or Prompto assumed him to be asleep. He had no idea where Gladio was, he remembered him mentioning something earlier, but he hadn't paid attention, the words slipping right out of his grip._

_His mouth fell open in a silent gasp as another pain claimed him, but he just lacked the energy to voice his discomfort anymore. 'Worst part,' he replayed in his head; what a joke that was. The other day had been much more tolerable than this mess. And, regardless of what his body was going through, it continued to plead for him to give in and cave; to give it what he knew would make it go away._

_But, he couldn't do that, not now, not when he's already suffered almost three days as it were for the sake of himself as well as the other two. For Noctis. He took in a deep breath, or as deep as he could muster and held it for a second before slowly blowing it back out._

_"-to," his head twitched sideways at the voice._

_"Iggy?" he asked, barely audible, but the light snore he got in response told him it wasn't the adviser he heard. Maybe Gladio got back and he wasn't aware of it._

_"Prompto," his gaze gradually averted to his right, trying to peer over his shoulder, but he couldn't quite make out that far, but he was sure it was right behind him; it sounded so close, hushed, but right there._

_His chest locked up at that tone; it was so familiar, and he knew exactly who it was, there was no doubt in his mind, but it wasn't true... it wasn't real. "Shut up," he whispered, his breath hitching, "Just shut up." Even as he said this, there still remained a small piece of himself that longed to hear it again, and deep down, he begged for him to speak once more._

_For a solid five seconds, he dared not breathe, afraid if he did he'd miss it. After a few more, he took in a quick and short one, only to sigh it back out when it never came. Then, just like before, he felt the whisper tickle across his cheek, "Prompto, what are you doing?"_

_He didn't know if he should be overjoyed or terrified. "N-Noct?" he asked, finally willing himself to turn over to his other side, his eyes flicking around frantically trying to locate the source. He now panted as his heart kicked up, his adrenaline pumping harshly through him. "Noctis?" he called out again, a bit more desperate, "No-ct!" his voice cracked, his limbs fumbled with the sheet that was tossed carelessly over him, the sounds of the adviser jerking awake lost in his panic._

_Then he heard it, the sound of the door closing, and he knew where he was now. "Wait, please, don't go," he pleaded, his sorrow reflecting heavily off his tone; he was too tired to hide it. "Come back," he demanded, finally freeing himself of his confines and climbing shakily to his feet, only to stumble forward and fall roughly to his knees. He went to stand back up, but a firm arm wrapped around his shoulders, preventing him from doing a thing; his body now too weak to fight against it. "Ignis, he's back, I heard him, we... we have to go after him," he pulled against the brunet, but it was of little use._

_"Prompto, you have to believe me when I say, he's not there, Noctis is gone. He's gone and we don't know when he'll be back," he used his other arm to try and pull the blond in. "Settle down, it's just the two of us, alright?"_

_"N-no, I heard him..." he tried to explain, his voice fading and his breaths stuttering._

_The adviser furrowed his brows in understanding. "I'm sorry, but that wasn't him, it's the withdrawals, your head is just messing with y- Prompto?" he questioned, feeling a slight shudder run through the blond, but it didn't feel like the normal ones. "Shit," he spat as the subtle tremor slowly became more violent as his form tensed up in his arms._

_As quickly as he was able, he carefully placed the younger on the floor, wasting no time as he stepped uncertainly in the direction of the bed and grabbed the first pillow his hand came across and he swiftly shoved it under Prompto's head before the seizure could escalate too far. With a sweeping motion, he brushed his hands over the floor, making sure it was clear of any hazards. In the middle of it all, he picked up on the small 'click' of the door opening._

_"Hey, I brought back a few things to he-" he froze mid step, eyes darting to lock onto the shaking form of the blond and then up to Ignis he was knelt next to him. "What the hell is happening?" he asked, tossing his bags on the table to rush to their sides._

_He didn't reply right away, instead he listened, focusing on the breathing, listening intently to that to make sure he didn't hear any choking or anything that didn't quite sound right. And, slowly the tremors slowed down, cuing him that it was safe to touch him now and he gently rolled him over to his side. A hand was already cupped in front of his mouth, the uneven yet strong puffs of air blowing through his fingers. He let out a sigh of relief. "He's fine," he assured, but kept a hand on his shoulder just to make sure he didn't roll back over to his back._

_"That's it," Gladio grunted, pushing himself to his feet, and Ignis could feel the movement of the blond as he was hefted up._

_"Gladio, what do you think you're doing?" Prompto could barely make out what they were saying, but it was there, vocalizing or showing any signs however, were a different story._

_"What's it look like, I'm taking him to get the help he needs."_

_Ignis chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "That's not what he wanted, he wanted to get this done here, where he'd be more comfort-"_

_"I don't give a damn!" the shield snapped. "If he wants to stay here and deal with it like this, he's going to die!" He was breathing heavily after that short outburst, "This isn't something to take lightly, and you know it as well as I do. Home detox is too dangerous, and I knew it was from the start and I should have never allowed this."_

_"No," Prompto muttered, the single word coming out sluggish and forced, his head slowly shaking from side to side, but his eyes still refused to open._

_Gladio seemed to soften for just a moment, "Sorry, but you don't have a say in this anymore." And, the lack of a reply he got after that didn't sit well; not so much as a protest, he just looked too exhausted to put up a fight anymore. "I'm taking him to the hospital," he turned his attention to Ignis, and turned and headed right back out the door, nearly slamming it behind him._

* * *

 

~SONG~

Prompto drew his knees back up, placing the bottle to the side once more in order to tightly hug his legs closer to himself, his whimpers slowly progressing into full sobs. And, he bit into his thumb, clamping down as he tried to control himself, his shoulders trembling violently with the tightness that now compassed them. "It's hopeless," he wept, releasing the hold on his finger to choke out another uncharacteristic noise. Leaning to the side, he allowed himself to slide until he was lying on his side.

"Dammit!" he shouted, the words grating painfully against the back of his throat, "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" each one was emphasized with a fist against the floor, and his mouth hung open as he took quickened and uneven breaths, every exhale carried a small whimper on its back.

He was left a shivering and muddled shell on the floor, his eyes eventually settling on a spot on the wall as his bout of self-pity fled him, abandoning him to meddle in his own disgust. His blood ran cold with the realization of just how deep he was, how impossible all this was for him.

It was clear now...

He wasn't strong enough...

He was weak.

And, there was no helping it anymore.

"I can't do this... I can't," he turned his head to bury into the ragged and musty carpet, the dust instantly causing him to cough and choke. "Ignis... Gladio... Noctis, I can't; I'm nothing... I'm meaningless and powerless alone," he coughed harshly again, gagging a little on the tickling in his throat. "I'm just not as strong as you guys. Not... not as strong as you give me credit for."

He tried to slow his breathing, tried to will his heart to settle down, but it stubbornly pumped on, defying his wishes and continued to distribute numbness through his limbs and mind. "I don't want to do this anymore." 'I'm tired...' he thought to himself, his voice growing hoarse and painful to use, 'I'm tired of fighting, and I'm tired of waiting.'

"You're taking too long," he whispered, "Noct, you're too damn slow."


	5. Year:5 Day:43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
> 
> Song for this one is "First Day of My Life" By:Bright Eyes. And as always, marked where to listen.
> 
> Welp, here it is, the last chapter. ;w; And I don't think I'll be doing another chapter story until August, since I plan on one of the prompts from FFXVWeek to turn into a multi-chapter, and don't wanna risk running into that one. So, there will be many more, but for the time being, gonna hold off. lol
> 
> Hopefully this was enjoyable, and let me no if this is the type people would want more of. C:

_He sat there, staring off mindlessly as he watched another inferno in the distance; another raging fire as it consumed another chunk of their world. Giants trailed out, leading the hungry hues. "Guess this is life now," Prompto sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "This is the second fire I've seen this week that's been able to grow to that size."_

_"On the bright side, it has to run out of fuel at some point," Gladio offered, trying to lighten the mood at least a little. But, he should have known better than that._

_He heard the hum that left the blond and caught the slight nod out of the corner of his eye. "Can't help but wonder," he turned his attention up towards the blackened sky, void of even the brightest of stars. "If- when all this is over, how long do you suppose it'll take for life to return? And I don't mean normal life for us, what I mean is, like plants and just the liveliness overall." He cut his eyes over to read the other's expression, "Wouldn't be surprised if it couldn't grow back. Five years without sun wouldn't be easy to recover from."_

_The older man chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought, how the hell was he supposed to know? He was pretty sure there wasn't a soul alive that could say for sure if things even could come close to what it was before. But, "You know, this isn't the first time this has happened, right?" Reaching out, he placed a heavy hand on the blond's shoulder. "The world bounced back then, so it wouldn't be surprising if it does again."_

_"I guess you have a point." Prompto lowered his head and gave a small smile, "Suppose it would take a bit of time though."_

_"Most things do." The brute leaned back, placing his hands behind him for support, "Just have to be patient."_

_The other nodded once again, this time letting out a small chuckle, "That's something I think we could both work on a bit more." His face faltered, taking on a more serious appearance, "Though, one can only wait but so long."_

_The man's eyebrows raised with curiosity, "You're not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you?"_

_"Me?" he asked sarcastically. "Do something stupid? Please, have bit more faith in me." Coughing lightly, he dropped his gaze back to his lap, "You know, I've been thinking. It has been a while, and I know you guys are probably sick of hearing about it. But, what if Noctis has already managed to get out. And, what if he's out there right now?"_

_Gladio didn't say it, but occasionally he couldn't help but think the same. But it wasn't like they had any way of knowing, they'd only know if something happened to him. Particularly if you were no longer alive, but no way of knowing whether he were still in the crystal or not. "Prompto, you just have to have faith and trust him," he mumbled, leaning back until his back was flat against the pavement._

_He wasn't sure why he expected any other answer, "You're right."_

_For the majority of the night, the allowed silence to come between them, if you could call the subtle quakes and cries of the damned in the background silence, that is. The only other sounds occupying the space between them were each other's breathing and the occasional sniff or cough. "I think I'm about to head to bed," Gladio sat up with a light groan. Pushing himself up and climbing to his feet, he gave the blond a small wave, "Try not to stay out here too much longer, don't want Ignis lecturing you again, I'm sure."_

_"Don't worry, I won't be out here too much longer," he assured, not moving from his spot. He waited until the steps disappeared and then some; waited until he was certain they wouldn't be coming back. After about an hour of lying there, he finally decided to sit up and take a look around, satisfied to see the place mostly empty aside from a hunter roaming around here and there as they patrolled the area._

_He stood up and brushed himself up, mostly to look more casual, he guessed, and headed towards Cindy's garage where he knew all the working vehicles were kept for their use. "So much for not doing anything stupid," he muttered to himself, stepping right inside and instantly began looking for anything that wouldn't draw much attention if it were to go missing. And that's when the slick black caught his attention, "This will do."_

_One of the only perks to living in this hell, was that people didn't often ask questions; it seemed to be somewhat of an unspoken rule: just don't meddle in the business of others. Everyone had their issues and everyone had their different priories, so it was almost a mutual understanding that things had to be done and not all wished to speak about it. With no eyes on him, he plugged in his headphones and turned on his playlist, turning the volume up loud enough to make sure most things went unheard; to isolate himself from the goings on around him._

_There was no looking back, he'd go do what he had to do, and he'd come back. It may take some time, but he was coming back. "I'm coming, Noctis, I promise."_

* * *

 

He didn't even come close to making it; not even an hour in and he already found a way to screw it up. And now look at him. Stuck in some run-down hotel as he marinated in his own self-pity. Not to mention, all that time keeping his problem under control, out the window. Prompto didn't see any way out of this mess; he was alone without the means to contact either of the others anymore. Flipping over to his back, he folded his arms over his chest to stare up at the ceiling, "The world bounced back before. So, who's to say it can't again?" As he said that out loud, he half expected to get the shield's approval, but it never came. "Then again, there's always a good chance it won't," he sighed, the sounds of the raging daemons reaching his ears from the distance.

Prompto flopped his arms out to either side, still watching the patterns above him as they wavered in and out of focus, either that or it was moving, and he highly doubted that were the case. Would it really even matter if he were to get up, was there a point? It seemed every time he got up and tried to do anything only resulted in him falling flat on his face and in need of being lifted back up. Something he could hardly do for himself. He blinked heavily and turned his head to the side, gazing down the length of his arm, eyes landing on his wrist band. Despite the others knowing, it was still a comforting accessory to have on.

And to think, that used to be the most of his worries, it seemed almost laughable now. Yet, Noctis had still accepted him knowing what he was and where he had come from. Then again, that was something he had no control over, but this; this was something that was born of his own poor decisions and lack of self control. It was hard to believe he'd feel the same if he knew about all this. It was shameful and he was thankful he didn't get to see this side of him, knowing how much it would disappoint him.

"Noct, I let ya down, didn't I?" he breathed out, closing his eyes to roll his head to face the ceiling once more. "And you had so much faith, didn't you?" he whispered There was no way he'd be able to face him like this, ever. That wasn't an option even if he were to give up right here on the spot. He couldn't face him if he were to carry on like this, and he couldn't face him if he were to call it quits. It almost seemed like an fantasy at this point. An unachievable dream in his eyes. But, he couldn't continue to let him down either, he'd done that enough as it were, and continuing to do so would be nothing but insulting to Noctis' choice to bring him into this. If he failed, it would have been the same as tell Noctis that he made the wrong decision.

There had to be a way out of this mess; there just had to be, but things weren't exactly looking to be in his favor. Using the foot of the bed, he hefted himself up with a wince, his body still not agreeing with all the moving around. He allowed himself only a second before pulling himself the rest of the way up and stood unsteadily on his feet. 'Not sure how this is gonna work,' he thought to himself, 'But, it kinda has to someway.'

As he went to take that first step, his foot tapped against the bottle that still sat there and he glanced down. For a moment he merely stared down, and eventually leaned over to pick it up. He held it in both hands, glancing over the label but not really focusing on it. Gripping it a tad tighter, he slowly shook his head. 'I either kick it, or I don't, This shouldn't be something that I have to think about.' he replayed in his head, remembering back to when he first decided that he wanted to come over this crippling dependency. With a scowl of disgust, he pulled it back with one hand. The next thing he knew, is there was a loud crash, shattering echoing off the walls as his back was turned to the room, and hopefully for the last time.

He wasn't sure what he was doing exactly, in fact, he had absolutely no idea where he was going from here. All he knew was that he needed something, some sort of way. He needed a better vantage point, getting a good look around might help him figure it out. Then he remembered, to get to the roof, he'd have to go outside. "Of course, I do," he breathed out, forcing himself forward, deciding not to dwell on any what-ifs for the time being.

Stepping over debris and other various obstacles, he tediously found his way back to the front entrance, there he hesitated; he took a moment to scan the area right outside, wanting to be absolutely sure he'd be safe enough long enough to make it where he needed to. Satisfied with the outcome, he took a calming breath and slowly pushed the door open. Since the effects of his moment of frailty were still clutching at him, this task was a bit more tricky than it should have been, but he managed.

The chill of the breeze hit him like a truck, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself to subdue the shiver that tried to creep up. He only gave a swift glance around before hauling it as quickly as his battered self would allow around to the back. There it was, the ladder up. Though, finding it was one thing, getting up there was something on a completely different level of functionality. He had this though, he's done much more difficult things under worse conditions. "You got this," he told himself, gripping the first rung and hefted himself up. One step and one pull at a time, and he was surprisingly making it up rather effortlessly. Despite the constant doubt in his heart that either his numbness or the deterioration of the ladder would cause his downfall.

A small chuckle of victory broke out as he climbed over the edge, falling over to his back the moment he was on solid ground again. "No problem," he uttered between breaths. Ok, the easy part was over, but there was still the hassle of figuring out a way out of this mess. And, even with the hope he had, there was still that large weight of doubt resting upon his shoulders. He gave his hands a quick shake, trying to get feeling back into them and got back to his feet with only one small stumble.

Stepping farther towards the center, he stopped to look at the view, not so much for the sake of looking for a way out, but for the familiarity of the view, minus a few changes. And, for nostalgic sake, he strolled over to the ledge and easily dropped himself in that same spot. He figured he could take his time, not like he was running the risk of running out of day...

* * *

_"Hey, you can't just stop halfway," Noctis tried to urge on while still remaining casual at the same time._

_The blond chuckled nervously, "Yeah, I know." He glanced over to the prince and instantly looked back away, feeling a bit awkward at holding that contact for too long. "I used to be super shy, couldn't talk to people," he finally started speaking what was on his mind. "No surprises, but I had no friends - at least not real ones." Noctis remained silent, taking it all in, afraid that interrupting him would cause him to retreat back into his fortified shell. "I was always alone. And there were times when I felt, well, worthless," he grew quiet again, unsure if he were spilling too much or not._

_The other sat for a moment, considering his words, wanting to make sure nothing came out the wrong way. "That's what's been bugging you?" he decided on, still going for nonchalant._

_The blond's mouth opened and closed a couple times before he could produce actual words, "I-I mean, when you look at me, you wouldn't think that I'm anything but a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky joker. But, that isn't the real me. Behind all the quips and laughs, I'm a mess at hang-ups." He kept his gaze forward, finding it easier to speak his mind when he wasn't staring the person in the face. "I've always felt inferior to you guys. I'm not royalty, and I'm not strong. I'm nothing, really. Unlike Gladio, I'm not good with people. The way he connects with them, he's operating on a different level. Unlike Ignis, I'm not smart and I can't cook to save myself." He finally built up the courage to glance back over, wanting this part to be spoken directly to the other, "But when we hang out, it's so much fun, I forget what I'm not. Then reality hits me like a splash of cold water, and I remember that I don't belong. But, I want to."_

_"Every moment, I'm desperate to earn my place - to prove that I'm good enough," and he was back to looking off in the distance once again._

_Again, Noctis had to let those words simmer for a few seconds before he could formulate a welcomed response. "Think what you will, but I think you're good enough for me," he kept his voice low and precise, leaving no room for doubt._

_"So, you really think I'm doing ok?"he asked more out of surprise than anything. It wasn't quite the reply he had been expected, but it was the one he had hoped to hear._

_"Yeah, I do," he casually brushed off, but Prompto could see right through the act. "Anything else?"_

_Still slightly taken off guard, the blond stuttered with his words, "U-uh no, nothing at all. I'm sorry I got so real all of a sudden," a slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he tried his best to keep it under control._

_"You should know better by now," Noctis went on, not done with his short, personalized lecture. "You think I make time for just any old loser?"_

_"Huh?" he jumped slightly at the playful insult, which transitioned fluidly into another light laugh, "Why, you mad, bro?" And, just like that, his more composed self was back, "Seriously though, thanks for making time for this loser."_

_Glancing at the raven for a second, he turned back towards the view, a sigh of relief leaving him, "Feels good to get that off my chest."_

_"Happy to hear."_

_"Alright," he chirped out, back to his usual animated and cheerful self, "I'm gonna keep on keepin' on, the only way I know how." With a small wave, he jumped up to his feet, nearly skipping by as he made his way back towards the ladder._

_"Yeah, you do that."_

* * *

 

"I'm gonna get out of this," he declared to himself, deciding that he would refuse to take anything else as an option. Noctis was coming back, and he was gonna be there for it, dammit. No matter what it took, he'd be there. Prompto got back to his feet and clapped his hands together, a small gasp coming out with the slight stumble that came with it. Seems he was still a bit on the unstable side when it came to balance, he'd have to be a lot more careful about that. Placing one hand against the 'T' of the motel sign, he leaned into and watched the scene before him. Not a tremendous amount of time had went by when something rather odd caught his attention... light. Two of them at that.

His eyes widened and breath caught when recognition struck him; those were headlights, a rare sight these days, but a much welcomed one. He had to get their attention, by any means necessary. And whatever he did, he had to act fast, they were approaching at a rather swift speed. There wasn't time for thinking, meaning there wasn't time for going back down the same way he had gone up. The idea of shooting to get attention was quickly dismissed when he remembered all the roaming enemies, and if they hadn't noticed him yet, there was no doubt they would after that.

He had to act, so taking a deep breath, and deciding it was best not to dwell on what he was about to do, he just went for it. As he leaped forward, easily falling into his short-lived sprint, he mainly prayed these were friendly people and not those out looking just for someone to loot or something. Those were slowly becoming a bigger and more dangerous threat that they had to keep an eye out for. The urge to close his eyes the moment his feet left solid ground was near impossible to fight, but he had to do it; he was positive he couldn't afford screwing up a landing right now, not when he was already sore and slightly intoxicated as it were. The ground approaching faster than he anticipated, he braced himself, and as soon his he felt something solid beneath him, he tried his best to roll into it.

Whatever pains and pangs he felt from that, he pushed them aside for now, he could still move and get back up on his feet, so that's all that really mattered; anything else could wait until later when he was out of here. He could hear it now, he could finally make it out over the various other sounds polluting the air. It was so close, and he sprinted the rest of the distance, ignoring the protests of his limbs. This was it, he was now skidding to a halt in the middle of the road, providing them with only a few options: hitting him, swerving around him, or stopping. And, of course, he silently prayed for the last of those choices.

Prompto closed his eyes as the lights nearly blinded him, only a few feet away now, the screeching of the breaks quickly followed. He held his breath, waiting for the collision, one that never greeted him. Before he had the chance to open his eyes, he heard one of the doors open. "What is it?" the question reached him, and he instantly knew the owner.

"Iggy?" he asked, slightly stunned and dared to crack one of his eyes open, relieved that the headlights were now dimmed enough for him to still make out a few things.

He heard footsteps come from the same side as the door. "Prompto... what," Gladio started, clearly just as confused about finding him here. "What the hell are you doing out here?" the younger could tell by his tone that he was a bit less than pleased about this encounter.

Prompto didn't know how to respond right away, but he stepped away when he heard the man step closer and could make out his silhouette now. "I-I had to take care of something," he finally answered vaguely.

"What could you possibly need to do that involves running off without a word to either of us?" the shield stepped closer, finally able to see the man properly. He glanced him over, looking over the scraps and scuffs covering him, and his eyebrows knit together, "What happened?"

The blond nervously wrapped a hand around his upper left arm. "Accident," he shrugged. "It's fine though," he lowered his gaze.

"Accident?" Gladio asked in an incredulous manner. His attention flicked over as he heard the other exiting the vehicle, "Ignis, there's no need to get out."

The adviser dipped his head, obviously paying the suggestion no mind as he carefully made his way to stand before the younger. "Prompto, I do hope you at least have a good reason for being out here, as well as an explanation for your phone being off."

His eyes shifted uncomfortable, "Sorry, but my phone kind of broke." Reaching into his pocket, he procured the remains of the device which looked to be shot to hell and back. He felt the focus bearing down on him, waiting for his answer to the other question, and he knew there wasn't a chance of him blowing it off. "I was, uh, I was going back," there was no need for clarification.

"How many times have we gone through this?" Gladio sighed, starting to lose his patience, his arms now folded in an annoyed stance.

"I know, but..." he trailed off, having no logical reasoning for his actions, but he still needed them to understand.

Ignis' face scrunched slightly as he stood there, his mouth forming a straight line as he turned his head slightly. "Prom," he started, voice precise and low, "What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, innocence shining through. "I told you."

"No, not that," he shifted his weight over to his other foot. "I can smell it."

The larger took those words and that tone as an invitation to close the gap between the gunner and himself. And, sure enough, as soon as he was close enough he sniffed the air and knew exactly what Ignis had meant. Taking a deep and calming breath before he completely lost his temper, he set the smaller with a heavy and severely unimpressed stare. "You have three seconds to explain," he left no room for argument, and a firm hand placed itself on the other's shoulder to prevent him from leaving the spot.

He held his breath, his throat seemingly to tighten around that request; the fact that there was none, none that warranted such a slip up, only made him fidget anxiously under the man's scrutiny. "There is none," he whispered, glancing away. "It was only supposed to be enough... to, you know, take the edge off," he gestured to his own form with his free hand. "But, I didn't mean for it... to carry on." He could practically feel the mood tilt. "I know I messed up, I know, but I stopped myself before it got worse," he nodded, looking the other in the eyes for the first time.

Prompto expected an outburst, and he half wanted it in hopes that it would make up for how much of an idiot he was; he almost craved it. "Just get in the car," he sighed, letting his hand slip away and turned on the spot, leaving the gunner to stand there with only Ignis there to stand next to him.

"Come on, we shouldn't stay here too long," the brunet offered, reaching to pat the other's arm, but missing by about an inch. Slightly embarrassed, he turned as well and made his way back to the passenger seat with way more caution than earlier.

"Yeah. Right," Prompto bowed his head back down, his adrenaline now fully wearing of and every ache from the last hours finally catching up. It was a tad painful to climb into the backseat, but he refused to utter a single complaint; this was all his fault, so he didn't have the right to whine about the outcome of it.

-SONG-

For most of the ride, they sat there in silence, the only sounds being the car and the occasional hiss from the youngest when they hit any particularly rough patches. Around about the fifth gasp, Ignis reached down into whatever baggage he had at his feet and withdrew a lightly glowing vial and wrapped his hand around the back of his seat. "Here," he muttered, "I'm sure you could really use one right about now."

"I say we leave it as is," Glaido mumbled under his breath. "He got himself into this mess, he can deal with the consequences of that."

"Gladi-"

"He's right," the blond cut in, really not wanting an argument to break out. "Don't waste it on me. They aren't that easy to come by anymore, so it's best to save it anyway."

There was a reluctant exhale and a small hum. "Very well, but you should at least have someone look at you when we get back," he basically asked.

"I will," he leaned his head back, the side of it throbbing and he raised a hand to attempt to rub out the stabs. Of course, it had little effect, it served more as a distraction that anything. "You know," he spoke back up, the silence driving him mad, "I actually considered it. I thought about downing the whole bottle," he chuckled darkly at that. "It would have been easy enough, but then I thought back to what you said earlier." He gazed into the mirror to meet those raging amber eyes which glanced back.

Gladio said nothing, switching his gaze back to the road, he turned down the next path and stayed silent. Prompto tore his own away now and leaned his head against the window to stare out. "Thanks," he breathed out. "I know I never actually said it before, but I really do appreciate everything you've done. And, I know it couldn't have been easy for either of you..." he stopped to breathe in with a shudder. "And I know you guys didn't have to give a damn. But, you still stayed." Closing his eyes, he allowed his face to press against the coolness of the glass, "I'm sorry, even though it's probably meaningless now, you still deserve an apology."

"Doesn't change the fact that you're a pain in the ass," the shield finally replied. "You can thank and apologize all you want, that won't change." He glanced back up in time to see the forced grin tug at the corner of the gunner's mouth, which disappeared just as quickly. "Am I pissed? Of course, I am, and I probably will be tomorrow as well."

"I would be concerned if you weren't," he replied lightly.

Gladio grunted at that, and without warning, snatched the potion that was still gripped in the brunet's hand before tossing it back. A startled yelp sounded out as the small container landed in his lap. "Just use it, before I change my mind."

For a few seconds, he could only stare down at it, his fingers barely mustering up the courage to glance over it, "B-but..." he stuttered, not feeling right about this."

"It's fine," the larger man assured. "We have quite a few stocked up that's been acquired from rescues and whatnot, there's enough to last for at least a year or so. So long as there's no more reckless behavior," he sharply punctuated that last bit.

Nodding, Prompto gave it a squeeze, and winced as the warm and tingling sensation enveloped him with small stings. "Thank you," he whispered, stretching out his legs to test the results of that.

"Don't mention it."

"And... thanks for coming after me. I'm not sure how you found me, but I'd most likely be dead if you hadn't," he felt a pressing burden against his heart at the truth of the matter.

At this, Ignis had to chuckle, "Pretty easy when one of the only vehicles is missing and so is the best friend of His Highness."

"We couldn't exactly leave you out there," Gladio sighed. "Besides, you're one of us, right?" Prompto jumped slightly at that and cracked open an eye to see the slight smirk.

"Unless you'd rather not be," Ignis followed up with a friendly smile of his own.

Prompto was left speechless, and he blamed it on his tired and overwhelmed brain for that. But, he still returned the expression and sighed out in content. No doubt he'd have to work on building some of that trust back up, but this was at least a good sign; at least they hadn't given up on him yet. Which meant he couldn't either, it wouldn't be fair to any of them if he were to. He relaxed his head back against the seat, finding that to be far more comfortable, and muttered just low enough for himself, "Keep on keepin' on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I may have previously lied about the ending not being good...


End file.
